


the next station is

by ThinkingCAPSLOCK



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Birthday, First Meetings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-05
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-05 03:06:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5358722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThinkingCAPSLOCK/pseuds/ThinkingCAPSLOCK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It hasn't been the best day of Keiji Akaashi's life. The last thing he needs is a stranger running into him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the next station is

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is set in toronto because i was too lazy to do any research for once. at least i'm an honest canadian.
> 
> happy birthday to that special owl in my life, akaashi!! one day i'll write a fic that isn't some kind of awful slow build/first crush with you, i promise.

It hasn't been the best day of Keiji Akaashi's life. If he had to compare it, and he does tally these things, he would rank it somewhere in the bottom ten. Just a bit better than being rushed to the hospital after being hit by a college student on a scooter, and a bit worse than having a scalding hot Double Double thrown at him by a drunk teen when he was eleven.

He'd been late to violin practice because of a broken down bus, and been forced to walk for ten minutes in a freezing rain downpour, and then had a pop quiz in _both_ his classes at university. He'd stepped in gum exiting class, had his free Starbucks tea knocked out of his hand into the road, and now he's stuck standing at the subway station wondering why there has been no train for the past ten minutes. With no data left on his phone to check why there haven't been any announcements, he's been forced to stand on the platform that's slowly getting more crowded with annoyed students.

As he fixes his scarf with his free hand and wonders what's taking so long, his other arm is slammed by a student trying to look down the tracks. Keiji staggers, then catches himself.

He instantly starts glaring at the back of the student's head when he doesn't turn around to apologize. Not that Keiji is expecting to get one. Anyone with no hat on in this weather, and hideous spiked white and black hair, is probably not just rude, but a complete ass. Who cares that his violin is worth more than the person's entire life? Who cares Keiji can feel the bruise on his shoulder forming. Some people had no respect for others, and-

 _Oh god he's turned around and he's looking at him_.

Keiji focuses on adjusting the violin case in his hands, passing it between them as if he had been staring into space instead of trying to silently kill the student for hitting him. From the corner of his eye, he tries to take in what he can. The other student, even under a winter coat, is clearly ripped. He's a good three or four inches taller than Keiji (impressive in its own right, as Keiji is six feet tall), and that's excluding the extra few inches of spiked hair. He looks like some kind of human owl that lives in the gym.

Keiji has made a huge mistake.

Getting beaten up on the subway platform seems like the appropriate next step in his horrible day. If he goes to the hospital, it might even beat out the scooter trip. As the other student crosses back towards him, Keiji sends a silent prayer up into the atmosphere for some kind of reprieve.

"Hey-"

A fake bell sound rings out and Keiji thanks the TTC for being so late in their announcements as the other student pauses and cocks his head to listen. A voice speaks out across the platforms. 

_Due to a system outage affecting signals, all service on the TTC subway lines has been suspended. Shuttle buses will not run to replace the line. Efforts are under way to restore regular service. I repeat-_

Before the repeat, Keiji spins on his heel and takes to the stairs, moments before the outrage breaks out on the platform. He doesn't care right then about how he'll never get home on the buses. He just knows the last place he wants to be is in a large crowd of angry students. Especially a particularly large angry student who probably wants to slam his face through the wall tiles for glaring at him. He takes the steps two at a time, slams his way through an exit turnstile, and makes it to the stairs leading outside before a hand clamps on his shoulder. Keiji lurches back, and the hand keeps him rooted in place.

"Hey!" The voice is obnoxiously loud, slightly accented, and unfamiliar. Keiji looks over his shoulder into a pair of shining amber eyes, and above them, white-black spiked owl hair.

Oh god, no.

"Excuse me," Keiji says, doing his best to shrug his way out of the arm clamp without looking like he's panicking.

"No, wait a sec! I wanted to apologize but you ran off!"

 _That_ makes Keiji stop squirming. He keeps his face neutral as he turns, and the other student removes his hand to rub the back of his neck. A few people walk around them before he continues.

"I didn't mean to bump you, I was in a bit of a rush and thought I heard the train... gah, you must think I'm such an ass! I'm very sorry!"

Keiji does think he's an ass. He blinks, once. Rubs his eye. Tugs the side of his hat down over his ear. The student shifts on his feet, coughs into his hand, and continues.

"Anyway, when I realized I totally just bulldozed someone, I turned back to see who I'd hit, and you looked really pissed, like, scary pissed, so I was like oh shit I better apologize, and then you ran off after the announcement, and it was this mad rush around people to get up here before you ran off, and I shouldn't have grabbed you and I'm sorry there too but I wanted to be sure you stopped, and it's so crowded-"

"Excuse me," Keiji interrupts. Did this guy ever shut up? "It's fine. I don't care." That wasn't exactly true, but it was an easy out. "If you'll excuse me...?" 

"Wait!" the other student grabs his shoulders again. His face is _far_ closer than Keiji appreciates, and he draws back as much as he can. "You can't get home right now, right? Can I please treat you to coffee or something? Please! To make up for it!"

Keiji opens his mouth to say no, to shrug his shoulders and remove himself entirely, but he thinks of the Starbucks drink that had been run over by a Porsche not twenty minutes ago. He clicks his tongue once.

And that's how Keiji ends up in the same Starbucks for the second time that day, with a complete stranger shuffling him inside and telling him to order anything he feels like. Keiji keeps a tight hand on his violin case as the stranger goes up and orders for himself. Keiji hangs back and wonders, as he peels off his mitts, why _exactly_ he had thought this a good idea. The stranger gestures for Keiji to come up and order, and with the heaviest sigh he can manage, Keiji does.

"Hey there Keiji!" greets the barista. Tall, dyed grey hair, and that ridiculous genuine smile. Lev, it seems, hasn't finished his shift yet. Another reason for Keiji to count the day in the 'miserable' section. He's acquainted with Lev, through no choice of his own, and, much like the stranger, Lev had a tendency to never shut up, regardless of how many people were in line.

Keiji just wants a tea and to leave. He wants to go home, pull out some sheet music, and play until his fingers go numb. He does not want to have to deal with Lev. He does not want to see the stranger.

Why had he agreed to this, again?

"Keiji, Keiji, were you hoping I'd be gone and you could get another free drink? Just 'cause it's your birthday? Trying to cheat the system, huh?"

The stranger shifts in a weird way in his peripheral, but Keiji doesn't glance over. "He's buying me one," Keiji says, his voice dry and flat. He jabs a thumb towards the stranger. "I will have another Chai Latte. I assume you remember what I ordered previously. If you'd hurry up with it, thank you."

With that, he shifts to the side, crosses his arms, and waits. He does not look away from the barista making it. He picks up his drink before his name's called, at the same moment the stranger slides his hand past and grabs his own. Keiji gives a half turn.

"Thanks for the drink," Keiji says, glancing around the student's broad shoulder at the exit. "It-"

"It's your birthday, right?" the stranger says, holding up a bag. "I overheard the barista mention it, and he said it totally is. Let's eat!"

And, without knowing how he gets there, Keiji finds himself seated, with his drink in one hand, a cake pop in the other, and his violin across his lap, in the seats furthest from the exit.

The stranger lounges across from him, his bright amber eyes sparkling all over again, his jacket opened to reveal a black tshirt with Hedwig on it. The stranger's phone has more charms to it than Keiji has ever seen, and a volleyball sticker on the back that he absently picks at. He's already demolished his own snack (two brownies), and chugged what could be anything from a black coffee to a double espresso.

Keiji has no idea what's going on anymore. He wants to go home. After a sip, he slams his latte on the table, causing the stranger to jump.

"This is very kind of you, and thank you," Keiji says, his eyes narrowing in a way that clearly says he doesn't really care at all, "but I think this is enough. What are you getting at?"

The stranger blinks slowly at him. "Huh?"

"What are you doing? Why are you following me around still? No one does stuff like this without a reason. I don't even know who you are."

With a small sigh of his own, the stranger straightens in his seat, and leans forward on his elbows on the table. His eyes meet Keiji's - his gaze confident, piercing, and studying. After a few moments, Keiji finds himself looking away. He pulls down his hat over his ears, takes another sip of his drink, counts the number of smudges of on the table. For some reason, he cannot bring himself to look up.

It's probably just because he's had a bad day. He's on edge, he tells himself. This is a weird situation. He glances up, and when he catches the stranger's eye, he sees a huge, toothy grin, that spreads all the way from the stranger's cheeks into his eyes, where it sticks. It's startling, and weirdly fascinating, and Keiji finds himself staring as the student talks.

"To be honest, I just thought you looked like you'd been hit by a bus when I stopped you in the subway. You just seemed miserable under all that bubbling anger at me, and no one should be _that_ miserable! Especially on their birthday!" The stranger stops to jab a finger into his chest. "I'm Koutarou Bokuto! I'm pleased to meet you! And I'm gonna make your day suck a lot less! Now eat that cake on a stick!"

Still watching those eyes and a smile so broad it takes up half the student's face, Keiji does. It's delicious, soft, and definitely as sweet as the pink icing makes it seem.

As he chews, slowly, the student stranger (Koutarou Bokuto, he reminds himself) starts to chat. He's studying internationally from Japan for a volleyball scholarship, and he's taking Planetary Sciences, though he started with a business degree and switched after first year. Keiji learns Koutarou's a year older than him, but they're in the same year of their programs. He doesn't like how early it gets cold, he spent a week adjusting to the time change and slept through more than a few lectures his first year here, and he can't figure out why there are so many subway stations named after saints in the same line.

As he talks, he fidgets in his seat, and his smile never wavers, though it seems impossible to hold one for so long without being in pain. Koutarou speaks with his hands and eyes and eyebrows, and he stamps his feet when he laughs at his own jokes. He attracts a lot of attention from the other patrons, but doesn't seem to care. He just keeps grinning as if the entire Starbucks is his own private delight, as if the air in the room is own private store, as if the lights in there are just to reflect in his amber eyes.

"But that's enough out of me!"

The interruption jars Keiji, and with a few blinks, he wonders if he's been staring. He looks to the side, reading the artsy phrasing on the wall, drinking his latte to hide his face. If Koutarou notices anything, it doesn't stop him from talking. Nothing seemed to.

"Tell me about the birthday boy!" Koutarou leans across the table. His eyes are wide and puppy like. Keiji swears that as he turns back, Koutarou's whole face lights up.

"I also go to university here. I'm studying music," he says. He glances down at his violin, and he senses more than sees Koutarou follow his gaze. "I did a year abroad in Japan in high school. My parents are from Tokyo."

" _I'm_ from Tokyo!" Koutarou grins, drumming his hands on the table excitedly. "Man, this is so cool! You play violin right? That's a violin case, not that other one? Or maybe fiddle? How long have you been playing?"

Somehow, his eagerness makes Akaashi relax his shoulders, and he lifts the case onto the table between them. "I play violin. I started learning music when I was six. I picked up the violin at eight, after I did some piano."

"Have you been to any competitions? I bet you're really good!"

"I'm alright. I'm still too young to be much of a master, but my teacher says I'm doing well." Akaashi pulls out his phone, but pauses with his finger over the YouTube app. He furrows his brows, scowls, and stuffs the phone back in his pocket. Had he really been about to pull up his own performances at competitions? 

When he looks back up over the brim of his cup, Koutarou's looking puzzled. "Bad news?"

"No," Akaashi replies. He heaves a sigh, drums his fingers once on the violin case, and wonders, absently, why he's talking more today than he has all week. He must be tired. He rubs under one of his eyes. He wonders if he looks as terrible as Koutarou suggested he did. He _feels_ like he's been hit by a bus. "It's nothing. I'm out of data."

"Sounds like you've had a bit of a rough day. No data, and no subway. Toronto's really giving you a happy birthday!"

And then, somehow, it spills out.

Keiji talks about how his bus broke down, and how he was caught in the freezing rain, and how he'd been so scared his violin would be damaged. He shows it to Koutarou, who stares respectfully, and doesn't even ask to touch it. He talks about the two pop quizzes, and how he thinks he passed the theory but he messed up a lot on the essay question. He talks until his throat feels dry and his latte's done and Koutarou's perched so far forward on his chair he might fall off.

And as Keiji takes a deep breath, Koutarou bursts out laughing.

He laughs so hard that his eyes water, that he clutches his side and doubles over in the chair. His shoulders heave back and forth, his breaths come in gasps and chokes. Some laughs rumble out, others end in high pitched squeaks, and through it all, he stomps and kicks and throws his head back.

Keiji feels his eye twitch. He starts to get up, closing the violin case as he stands.

"No, no, I'm sorry!" Koutarou's voice is choked, and as he tries to clear his throat, he snorts at the same time he giggles. It's the most disgusting noise Keiji has _ever_ heard, and he recoils. For some reason, this makes Koutarou do it again. "It's just, it's- it's ridiculous! That's the worst string of luck!"

"Yes, it is," Keiji retorts. This spurts another round of laughing. "I don't see what's so funny."

"It's just, you know, the way you talk about it! You're sooooo serious! It's like, you're reading the telephone book, or something, but instead of people it's this laundry list of hilariously terrible things! You were more pissed about me bumping you!"

"I'm very pissed recounting these things. This is actually my pissed off face. The one you saw was mildly annoyed," Keiji replies dryly, holding his face completely neutral.

This time, when Koutarou laughs, Keiji feels his mouth twitch into a half smile. Something about that stupid laugh is contagious, he tells himself. He sits back down, twirling the empty cup on the table, watching another group of people crowd in from the cold. 

"How long do you think the subway will be out for?" he asks, twirling the cup again absently.

Koutarou shrugs a shoulder, then grins lopsidedly. "You're stuck here in the city now, right?"

"Yes, obviously," Keiji replies. "That's the whole reason I'm here, talking to you."

"Wanna see how many places we can get free stuff from by telling them it's your birthday today?"

Keiji considers his options. On the one hand, he just met this loud, obnoxious guy, who talks too much and keeps eyeing the brownies when he thinks Keiji isn't looking. He's poorly dressed and gets too excited and has no idea how to take breaths between sentences.

On the other hand, Keiji's trapped downtown for the next few hours at least, he'd just gotten free food _and_ tea, and, for some reason, Koutarou seems perfectly content to spend the rest of his day wandering through stores with a stranger to get free stuff.

And Koutarou had just genuinely made him smile. Keiji tries extremely hard to _not_ think about how nice that was. After another long moment, he lets out a sigh and looks squarely back at Koutarou.

"Screw it, I'm in," he says. Koutarou lets out a 'whoop' and leaps to his feet, crashing the chair to the floor behind him. Keiji rolls his eyes. "We're doing something thing first, though."

Koutarou blinks as he picks up the chair. "What's that?"

"You need a hat. I'm not listening to you complain about your ears the moment we step outside."

This time, when Koutarou grins, he winks and gives a thumbs up. Keiji feels something squirm in his chest, and he thinks the day might not be a total failure after all.


End file.
